Of Tempers and Temptations
by Liana-chan
Summary: Oneshot. Pretty much what the title says. While on a mission, Anakin loses his temper. Upon their return, both he and ObiWan attempt to resist temptation. Slash ObiWanAnakin


There you are, Xtine! An extremely belated Christmas gift for you. I guess I should start on the one for your birthday now, eh? Maybe then it'll only be a month late… Oops.

**Of Tempers and Temptations**

"Bloody Sith hell!"

Obi-Wan winced as the loud sounds of the angry shout and the subsequent slamming door reached his ears and violently jarred him out of his meditations. He sighed to himself. He really should have expected it. After all, it wasn't the first time this had happened. This was actually one of many similar incidents.

He and Anakin had just returned from another mission, one that was supposed to involve nothing but reconnaissance. However, bad luck seemed to follow the pair everywhere. They had been discovered, and a miniature war zone had broken out in the streets of a largely mercantile planet, disrupting stalls of fruit and other wares, causing merchants and peddlers to dive for cover as blaster bolts were deflected by lightsabers.

Upon their return to Coruscant, Obi-Wan and Anakin had both been requested – demanded – to appear before the Council. At separate times. Which did not bode well at all. Obi-Wan had gone in first, given his report, then returned to his and Anakin's quarters, regretfully leaving his Padawan to face the Council's wrath alone once Anakin was released from the medical bay.

The problem wasn't the failure of the mission. The problem was the reason their cover was blown. Anakin's temper. It really always came down to that. Anakin's heart was too full of emotions. He had trouble controlling his feelings; he could not release the tumultuous mass into the Force, as Jedi were trained to do, as they were supposed to do. And this mission had been no exception.

Obi-Wan and Anakin stopped on the threshold of the bar, surveying the dim interior with distaste. They had not expected the best of places; the locale had made sure they knew what they were getting into, as the district had definitely seen better days. The inside of the bar was dirty, extremely so. In fact, Obi-Wan was quite sure that dingy brown splash on the far wall was blood. Which, given the clientele and the hostile looks he and his Padawan were getting, wouldn't have been surprising.

_Obi-Wan stepped over the unconscious – he hoped – body in front of the door and made his way to the bar, followed closely by Anakin. He could feel numerous sets of eyes following his movements as he leaned against the bar and ordered three drinks from the silent bartender. He gave one to Anakin and then his gaze swept the room, taking everything in despite the muted light, before resting on a hunched figure in the back of the bar. He nudged Anakin with his elbow, signaling him to stay where he was, and walked over to his target, sitting down and sliding the extra drink over, deciding to start business right away._

_The conversation was going well enough; Obi-Wan was getting the information he needed. He smiled slightly. The Council would be pleased._

_Suddenly, he heard the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber being ignited. He turned, just in time to see the bright glowing blue of Anakin's blade slice the head off one of the patrons._

_There was a slight pause, completely silent save for the head thumping to the ground. The body followed and _'Oh shit'_ was the only thought Obi-Wan had time for before all hell broke loose._

-----

Anakin stormed out of the Council chamber, black robes billowing in his wake. He cursed inwardly, damning the stuffy Jedi Masters in the room behind him. He couldn't believe the bastards could be so stuck up. Their belief in even the most archaic and unreasonable condition of the so-called Jedi Code was completely astounding in his not-so-humble opinion. It was a natural as breathing, to any human. He felt! And he was proud of it! He couldn't imagine what it would be like to give up his emotions, as much as he was nagged about it. They were what made him who he was, what made his life truly worth living. Without them, he'd as good as lose the person that was most important to him… As he continued angrily down the hallway, his mind involuntarily jumped back to the reason for his outburst in the bar.

_Anakin stayed at the bar, looking after Obi-Wan as his Master left him. He took a sip of his drink and could barely make himself swallow; not surprisingly, it left a lot to be desired and he resolved, without too much difficulty, not to touch his lips to that glass again. He was content to just sit and watch Obi-Wan work his magic on the stooped figure at the table, marveling at how a small smile turned the corners of those captivating lips up just slightly, at how the thrill of getting what he wanted made Obi-Wan's brilliant eyes sparkle, at the way the meager light in the room caught on the auburn strands of his Master's hair. He wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through it. It looked so soft…_

_His admiring musings were interrupted by a body settling against the bar next to him, and Anakin cursed himself for not paying closer attention to his surroundings. Obi-Wan was counting on his Padawan to watch his back. Then again, for Anakin, Obi-Wan's backside always tended to be a bit of a distraction…_

_Anakin shook his head slightly, clearing it of all thoughts that should probably wait to be entertained – and entertaining – until the long and boring trip back to Coruscant. He realized the bear of a man that had just sidled up to the bar was talking to him._

"_What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" he leered, looking Anakin's tall form up and down. He was severely lacking in subtlety._

Anakin rolled his eyes and ignored the man, staring straight ahead at Obi-Wan. He even held his temper when the man started pawing at the front of his robes, smacking the hand away and continuing to focus on Obi-Wan. Anakin thought he was doing pretty well, all things considered, but the man must have followed his gaze, because then he leaned over and whispered next to Anakin's ear. 

"Well, I'm sure he could join us, Sweetheart. He looks like a quiet one, and you know what they say about those…" He purred revoltingly, making another grab at Anakin's crotch. "I'd pay good money to see that one come undone, screaming as I –"

_And that's where Anakin lost his temper._

Anakin allowed himself a fleeting grin, remembering the perverse pleasure of watching that nauseating body slump to the ground.

Nobody talked about _his_ Obi-Wan that way.

He scowled, making a small group of slightly younger Padawans shrink back against the wall to avoid him as he passed. He knew he had overreacted in the bar, but – and here he practically snarled – that bastard had deserved it! Anakin couldn't help it if his body had acted before his brain. And it wasn't his fault it made a habit of doing so! But if he had to listen to Master Yoda's 'More at peace with your emotions, you must be, young Skywalker' once more because of it…

Anakin shoved the door to his and his Master's quarters open, heedless of the door crashing into the wall behind it. And of its trip back towards him.

-----

_Before either of them could react, blaster bolts were flying through the air at both him and Anakin. Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and parried repeatedly, deflecting the bolts back at his attackers and pursing his lips in satisfaction as he heard muffled screams. He watched Anakin doing the same out of the corner of his eye, lithe body moving almost as if he were dancing._

_Suddenly a door off to the side of the bar was flung open, a large group of men pouring into the room and swarming towards Anakin, who happened to be closest. Obi-Wan cursed, berating himself for not having noticed the door, hidden in the shadows as it was. He fought his way over to Anakin as more men converged on his Padawan than on him. His heart caught in his throat as he saw a bolt from a blaster rifle sneak its way through Anakin's guard. He watched, robbed of breath, as the young man's usually fluid steps faltered and as, wounded in the shoulder, he went down under shear weight of numbers._

_Obi-Wan panicked, fighting with renewed effort to reach his Padawan. He slashed and parried, his lightsaber a blur of blue light in the dim bar, until he was standing over Anakin, defending until it was clear enough to haul the slightly dazed young man up. _

_The older Jedi turned around just in time to see his contact go down with a blaster bolt to the chest and groaned, resigned, before dragging his bruised and battered Padawan over to the door. Spilling out into the sunshine of the street – and bringing the brawl with them – Anakin regained his senses and fought alongside Obi-Wan until they could escape to their shuttle and get off that accursed planet._

_The trip back to Coruscant was a silent one._

Obi-Wan opened his eyes after hearing Anakin's angry and frustrated exclamation (he had obviously just left his audience with the Council and Obi-Wan was willing to bet it hadn't gone very well) and the door being thrown against the wall behind it, just in time to see said door bounce off the wall it had been pushed into and crash right into Anakin's shoulder. His injured shoulder.

And a whole new round of irate swearing commenced.

-----

He stood in the doorway for a second, and that single second turned out to be one too many. A sharp, stinging pain in his shoulder, and then Anakin found himself on the floor, wondering what had happened.

'_Fucking door.'_ The single disorientated expletive bouncing around in his head was quite a bit tamer than those that were unconsciously coming out of his mouth.

And suddenly the simple white ceiling was blocked out of his vision by brilliant blue eyes filled with concern. Anakin blinked for a second, before he was hauled into a sitting position by Obi-Wan. He heard the door click shut quietly behind him and felt gentle fingers prodding at the clothing and bandages covering the wound in his shoulder.

It wasn't until after Obi-Wan had said something that Anakin shook himself out of his daze.

"Excuse me!"

His Master sighed in a long-suffering manner. "I told you to take off your shirt. I want to make sure the door didn't do anything that's going to interrupt your healing."

Anakin protested, of course. He knew that hit hadn't been a good thing; he could already feel the blood starting to soak into the fresh bandages, making them feel wet, slightly heavy and sticky, and very uncomfortable against his skin. But he could take care of that later, as soon as he got away from his Master. He didn't want to think about what Obi-Wan's hands would feel like on his bare chest, gentle and soothing, yet sensually caressing…

In the end he gave in, Obi-Wan's stern "Anakin," slight glare, and crossed arms brooking no argument. Anakin reached for the hem of his shirt, seeking to peel it off, but his hands were batted away and Obi-Wan's replaced them, slipping under the offending fabric, skimming lightly over Anakin's chest as they lifted the shirt up and over his head. Anakin's breath caught from the intimate touch, and he hoped Obi-Wan hadn't noticed.

The rough-spun cloth of his tunic ruffled his hair as it was pulled up over his head. Anakin raked his fingers through the strands, using the moment to turn away from his Master and gather his wits, pushing back the feelings Obi-Wan's touch evoked. Anakin had barely started to regain his breath when the older man's hands were back on him, tapered fingers dancing lightly over his skin and gently prodding around the bandage over his wound.

Anakin shivered at the realization of how close they were sitting. Sure, they had been as close as this before, but never with Anakin half naked and never with all the focus of both his Master's attention and hands solely on his body. Sith, but what those hands did to him! He didn't dare look at Obi-Wan, knowing that every single emotion coursing through his veins would be painfully obvious, shining from his eyes. Insecurity. Desire. Frustration. Lust. Uncertainty. Love. And Anakin knew Obi-Wan wasn't even trying to provoke such feelings. The notion of what it would be like if Obi-Wan were actually trying summoned up thoughts that were quite unjedi-like…

Another shiver ran up Anakin's spine and he moaned slightly, not noticing when he leaned into the hands on his body.

-----

Obi-Wan is not a man who gives into temptation easily. However, when he saw his Padawan beginning to lift the fabric covering his chest, the Jedi Master just couldn't resist. He pushed Anakin's hands out of the way, instead sliding his up the smooth skin, brushing over tensed muscles, hand straying over to tweak the dusky nipple that had just been revealed.

Obi-Wan mentally slapped himself, reigning in control on his errant hand just in time to avoid a rather embarrassing situation. _'Exercise some restraint, Kenobi!' _he berated himself. _'You're his Master. The last thing you're supposed to do is have such inappropriate thoughts about him.'_

But he did anyway. He didn't know when Anakin had grown into such an attractive young man, but he sure as hell remembered when he realized it.

The two of them had simply been in the main gym, training in a practice lightsaber battle, surrounded by other Master/Padawan teams doing the same thing. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except that instead of noticing flaws in stance or technique or strategy, Obi-Wan found himself – for the entire duration of their sparring! – admiring how the muscles in Anakin's arms coiled and released as he parried and retaliated. How they were well defined but not overly so. How his frame was both tall and slender but never lanky or awkward. How he moved with an unconscious grace. How his bright blue eyes danced with excitement as he pressed Obi-Wan closer to the edge of the training mat. How his teeth worried his lower lip as his Master took the initiative and he found himself yielding ground. Obi-Wan wanted so badly soothe that bruising lip, to caress it with his own…

_Where had _that_ come from! Shocked by what he had been thinking, Obi-Wan found himself with his back flat against the mat, legs and arms sprawled out, blinking wide-eyed up at Anakin standing above him._

"Are you okay, Master? You seem a bit distracted," Anakin wondered as he helped Obi-Wan up off the floor. Then, lacking the modesty one would expect from a Jedi (even one in training), he stripped off his shirt, his chest glistening slightly from the light sheen of sweat covering it.

_And Obi-Wan's answer was completely forgotten._

Obi-Wan smirked. All he had wanted to do was caress the smooth skin before him. And while he couldn't do so at the time, he certainly had leave to – surreptitiously – do it now…

He pulled the offending material over Anakin's head, chuckling softly to himself as his Padawan's hair ruffled and he scowled endearingly, fingers carding through the soft waves. Absolutely adorable.

He threw Anakin's shirt to where it landed on the floor a few feet away. _'No, damn it all, the boy is not adorable! Stop it! Concentrate on checking his wound.'_ And he did, for a little bit. Well, as long as can be reasonably expected from someone who has their only desire laid out in front of them. _'Well, he's hardly a boy anymore. He is, after all, twenty-three years old. And not my Padawan anymore, though the titles do seem to have stuck…'_

Once had assured himself that Anakin's shoulder would be fine (it just needed to be rebandaged; the wound had already almost stopped bleeding, the flow having slowed to a sluggish oozing) Obi-Wan raised his eyes to look at Anakin and noticed the younger man's face was turned away from him. Odd. Anakin usually liked to watch the healers when they were dealing with something like this, especially when it was part of his own body. He shrugged and ripped the soiled bit of the bandage away, reapplying the clean part to Anakin's shoulder, his fingers lingering on the soft flesh beneath them, stroking lightly.

His gaze jerked up again as he heard Anakin moaning and saw a shudder overtake his body for the second time in as many minutes. "Anakin?" he asked, worried. "Are you alright?"

Anakin seemed to come back to himself then, pulling himself upright and blinking rapidly, his face flushing.

-----

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan's voice broke through his pleasure-induced haze, and he jerked upright from where he had been leaning into his Masters hands. He felt his eyes widen as he panicked and he jumped to his feet, still unable to meet Obi-Wan's eyes as he distractedly replied that he was fine and turned away, frantically searching for and then grabbing his shirt. He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks.

He nearly had a heart attack when strong arms enfolded him from behind. The shirt fell back to the ground.

-----

Anakin looked so panicked that all Obi-Wan wanted to do was take him in his arms, holding the younger man until he calmed. And before he could tell himself not to, his body had already made the decision to do so, the treacherous thing. Although, he had to admit, once he was there and he felt Anakin relax into the embrace, he couldn't help but feel the exact opposite of upset. Obi-Wan savored the feeling of Anakin in his arms, drawing him in and holding his former Padawan tight to his chest.

They stood like this for a moment before Obi-Wan realized he still didn't know why Anakin had lost his temper in the bar. He asked, and felt Anakin stiffen, before turning and burying his face in the crook of his Master's neck.

"Don't ask me that," he heard mumbled against his neck. "Please." Obi-Wan ached at the heart-broken tone coming from the young man in his arms. He never wanted Anakin to feel like that. Ever.

Obi-Wan tightened his grip on Anakin, smiling at Anakin's answering clutch of the back of his robes. Holding the taller man like this was pure heaven, and likely the closest he'd ever get to what he really dreamed; he never wanted this to end. But end it did, way too soon for Obi-Wan's tastes, as Anakin violently ripped himself out of the older Jedi's arms.

-----

"Don't ask me that. Please." Anakin, answered miserably, turning and hiding his burning face next to Obi-Wan's neck. He let his eyes slip shut. He couldn't answer that question. He just couldn't. It would completely give away how he felt. What would Obi-Wan say to him about something like that? No, he couldn't.

But the older man was hugging him, wasn't he? Holding him in a way he hadn't been held since he was a little boy? _'Although at that time,'_ he thought ruefully _'I never enjoyed being in his arms as much as I am now…'_ He felt a lazy bliss flood his entire body, and he wanted to stay there forever, never letting go of Obi-Wan.

Anakin breathed in deeply, the scent invading and overwhelming his senses the distinct one that only Obi-Wan possessed, the same one for which Anakin regularly stole the older man's pillow to sleep with at night. His eyes fluttered open slowly, the column of Obi-Wan's neck the only thing he saw. What would it be like to nuzzle it? To nip and lick and suck the flesh there? To surrender to the desire pulsing through his veins? To leave a deep purplish tinge to the pale skin, proclaiming to all that Obi-Wan was his alone forever? To hear his Master's pleasure-fogged voice moan out his name… Anakin licked his lips.

He jerked back in horror at what he had almost done, tearing himself out of Obi-Wan's arms, a look of complete shock on both their faces, Obi-Wan surprised at the sudden loss of contact and Anakin's mind reeling at what he had almost done, what it would have revealed. He stumbled over to the bathroom door, stuttering something about needing a shower, his legs weak and his stomach performing acrobatics he didn't even know it could do. Sith, as if he wasn't frustrated enough upon his return from his audience with the Council! Now he had frustrations of an entirely different sort. Yes, a shower would be a good idea. A nice long, bone-achingly cold one.

-----

He stood, stunned speechless, starring at the closed bathroom door. His body didn't kick back into gear until the sound of falling water reached his ears, and even then Obi-Wan's mind took a little while to catch up. He stumbled blindly over to the kitchen table and sunk numbly into a chair, still starring straight ahead. A voice in his head nagged him, taunting him, dragging the worst of his fears to the front of his thoughts, _'You pushed him too far. He knows how you think about him. He knows and he can't stand it. He's going to finish his shower and leave and you'll never see him again. He knows you love him and he hates you for it.'_ Obi-Wan groaned, lowering his head to the table and barely resisting the temptation to forcefully knock it against the hard surface. After all, just look at what happened the last time he gave in to impulse…

He groaned again and wondered if now would be a good time to start drinking.

-----

Anakin let the water run over his body, cleansing, calming, numbing him to everything. He wouldn't have been surprised to see little chunks of ice piling at the drain, the water was so cold. But that was okay, because Anakin needed that right now, needed to not feel anything, to become desensitized to everything. His frozen legs gave out beneath him and he found himself on the ground for the second time that day, but his deadened nerves felt nothing. And that was okay.

Up until now, the fear of rejection and the chance of losing the man he loved forever had been the only things stopping him from letting Obi-Wan know how he felt. Because Obi-Wan would never feel the same way about him. Never. And he would just have to come to realize that and deal with it.

But – and here was the real question – could he live with that? With Obi-Wan, and his looks, and his touches, and his smiles, always hinting, suggesting, that there could be something more between the two of them? Would he rather stay completely ignorant, pining, never knowing what could have happened if only he had taken a chance? Or would he rather be sent away in disgust, but at least have some sort of concrete answer to his deepest desire?

Had he asked himself those same questions just a little while ago he would have told himself that being near Obi-Wan was enough, just being there to share those tiny moments that made him love the man even more was enough. Would always be enough. But now those same moments were driving him insane, always offering something he desperately wanted, needed, only to snatch it all away at the last moment. And now Anakin wasn't sure he could deal with it much longer…

'_Enough! This is utterly ridiculous!.'_ He needed to know. And he needed to know now! He forced his numb legs to lift his equally numb body off the cold floor and stepped out of the 'fresher, grabbing a towel from the rack and roughly chafing his skin to work some heat back into his body. His hair was still leaking steady drops of icy water down his arms, back, and chest, but he ignored them, shaking the soaked strands out of his eyes. Then he wrapped the damp towel around his waist and yanked the door open, striding determinedly out to the kitchen.

-----

Obi-Wan jerked upright, started for the second time that day as a door was thrown open and a fuming Anakin made his way into the room. Bloody Sith, but he looked pissed! Obi-Wan practically jumped out of his chair, hands raised in a defensive position, frantically searching for the words to explain the earlier scene away.

But he didn't get a chance to. Before he could utter a single word, strong hands batted his out of the way, reaching for him, clutching him close. Possessive lips crushed down on Obi-Wan's, claiming them in a kiss that left both him and Anakin breathless. They parted, harsh breaths mingling in the space between them, foreheads resting together.

Feeling Anakin pull away from him, Obi-Wan opened his eyes, only to find the other man watching him warily. _'Ready to bolt, no doubt,'_ Obi-Wan thought with a small smirk.

But Anakin seemed to be ahead of him, already turning to leave, his expressive eyes never leaving the floor, a resigned sadness held in their clear blue depths.

Panicked, Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin's wrist, hoarse voice barely forcing the words past his lips. "If you leave," Anakin slowly twisted back towards him, a reluctant hope breaking through the misery clouding those beautiful features. "If you try to leave now, after giving me the only thing in the galaxy I've ever really wanted, I swear to whatever god will listen, I will tie you to your bed so you can't even move, let alone leave!"

A huge grin spread across Anakin's face. "Do you promise?" he asked cheekily, leaning in for another kiss. A content groan muffled against his lips was his only reply.

Anakin smiled. Sometimes it paid to give into temptation.

* * *

There! My first Star Wars fic. Please let me know what you think. 

Just last week I had a super long flight over to Europe (18 hours of traveling between the flight and bus and train rides and stopovers and yucky). But, on the bright side, it was quite productive. In the next few days I hope to have a couple more fics typed up and posted, so stick around if you're interested.


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